


The Truth About Linhardt

by bizzybee



Series: Requests [10]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Babysitting, Background Relationships, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzybee/pseuds/bizzybee
Summary: "'Aw, come on, Linny,' says Caspar. He scoots closer, placing one hand on Linhardt's knee. Linhardt rolls his head without lifting it from the rest to look at him. 'What's the worst that could happen?''She dies, the house burns down, and I get fired for putting Edelgard's perfect little daughter in danger.''Yeah, okay, that could happen,' Caspar says. He gives Linhardt's cheek a little poke until he turns back to the road. 'Or everything could go so earth-shatteringly awesome that you get promoted. Then I could quit my job and we could sit on the beach all day eating burgers and drinking mimosas.'"
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Series: Requests [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835620
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	The Truth About Linhardt

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request by Danie! Thanks for commissioning! 
> 
> Title is based off of the Babysitters Club story "The Truth About Stacy," because I could not help myself.

“I don’t think I can do this.” 

Caspar looks up from where he’s tapping away at some banal pink and blue puzzle game on his phone to see his husband, his wonderful, unflappable husband, clutching the steering wheel with all his might and looking like he’s about to vomit. Or pass out. Or maybe both. 

“What’s wrong, Linny?” 

Of course, Caspar is almost sure he knows what’s wrong. Still, though, he’s learned with Linhardt that it doesn’t hurt to ask. 

“I can’t do it,” Linhardt repeats. “You know how I am with kids. You know I can’t do this.” 

“Well,” Caspar says, and sets his phone in one of the front console's cupholders. “One of those statements is true.” 

Linhardt groans, leaning back against the headrest. 

"Aw, come on, Linny," says Caspar. He scoots closer, placing one hand on Linhardt's knee. Linhardt rolls his head without lifting it from the rest to look at him. "What's the worst that could happen?" 

"She dies, the house burns down, and I get fired for putting Edelgard's perfect little daughter in danger." 

"Yeah, okay, that  _ could  _ happen," Caspar says. He gives Linhardt's cheek a little poke until he turns back to the road. " _ Or  _ everything could go so earth-shatteringly awesome that you get promoted. Then I could quit my job and we could sit on the beach all day eating burgers and drinking mimosas." 

Linhardt's brow creases. "I think that's more your fantasy than mine." 

"So you're saying you wouldn't want to sit on the beach all day?" 

"I'd be the one with a job," quips Linhardt. 

"Yeah, and I'll be your trophy husband!" Caspar can tell that his teasing is working in the way Linhardt's shoulders drop, his hands becoming more firm and less death-grip. 

"I suppose that wouldn't be too bad. If our situations were reversed," says Linhardt. 

Caspar smiles at the road in front of them, letting the silence sit with them for a moment. "Look," he says. "You already know that we never have to have kids if you don't want to. If you want, I can hang out with Lola while you just heat up the dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner and then pretend you have a work call or something." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah!" Caspar says, then pauses. "How old  _ is  _ Lola anyway?"

"Six. Thirteen. I don't know." 

"I mean, she was speaking in full sentences at the last office party," Caspar muses as Linhardt pulls into Edelgard and Dorothea's apartment complex. "So she's gotta be at least ten, right?" 

"Sure," Linhardt murmurs, only half-listening as he pulls into a Visitor's parking space. 

Conversation stalls as they find the right apartment, and before they can even knock the door swings open before them. 

"Oh, hey," Dorothea says. "Thought you were the pizza. Come on in." 

Caspar just barely catches a whiff of perfume before they’re ushered in, Dorothea stepping away for a moment to slip on a string of pearls and reapply her lipstick in the hallway mirror. 

“Right,” she says, returning to the foyer. “Lola’s in her room. She’s  _ very  _ excited to have some fun with Uncles Linhardt and Caspar. Don’t fuck this up.” 

“We would never,” Linhardt drawls. “Who do you take us for?” 

“The same people who, back in college, almost burnt their dorms down because you thought you could make a controlled flame on your bathroom floor,” Dorothea responds drily. 

“Aw, come on, Dory,” Caspar protests as he shrugs off his shoes. “You thought that was funny.” 

“Yeah, well, now I have a kid,” Dorothea says. “A kid whose safety and life I care about very much.” 

Just then, said kid appears from the hallway, bouncing over to Dorothea and pulling on her hand until Dorothea scoops her up with a huff, letting her cradle into her shoulder. 

“Hey, Lola,” Caspar greets. Linhardt seems much too concentrated on staring at the wall behind Dorothea to greet her, so Caspar turns back. “You ready to have some fun?” 

“Mommy told me you’re only helping out because Bernadetta’s on a date with her boyfriends,” Lola says, a glint of mischievousness in her eyes. 

“Oh, shush,” Dorothea says, face pink as she presses a hand to the side of Lola’s head. 

“Aw, does this mean you don’t wanna have fun with us?” Caspar teases. “I’ll let you have all the ice cream in the freezer if-” 

“No,” Dorothea cuts in. 

“We’ll go on a trip to Disney-” 

“No.” 

“Play some Call of Duty-” 

“Alright, so what you’re actually going to do is play some games, eat dinner, and then be in bed by seven-thirty,” Dorothea says, ignoring both Lola’s whine and Caspar’s dejected sigh. 

“Linhardt even went to the store to get candy for all of us,” Caspar complains.

“Linhardt?” Dorothea asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Starbursts and smarties,” Linhardt mumbles. 

“Oh, dear Goddess,” Dorothea says under her breath, then turns to shout down the hall. “Edie! Let’s go before I kill these two.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lola’s eating mint chocolate chip straight from the carton as Linhardt daintily dabs the grease from his pizza. 

“See?” Caspar says. "Babysitting is easy." 

Linhardt shrugs. "I have… a work call in twenty minutes." 

"No you don't," Lola pipes up. "Momma told me you didn't and that if you said you did to call you a liar." 

Caspar raises his eyebrows. Linhardt sputters. 

"In that case," Lola says, and lets the spoon fall into the ice cream tin, "Come on, Uncle Linhardt." 

"Oh..." Linhardt trails off as Lola grabs him by the hand, pulling him away from the table and down the hall. "Caspar?" he calls, somewhat strangled. 

"Um, I’ll be there in a sec!” Caspar calls, hopping up to put away the swiftly melting ice cream. 

And, alright - he’s a good husband, he swears. But if he takes a bit more time than is strictly necessary cleaning up dinner. He justifies this by telling himself that Linhardt really must get over his fear of kids one way or another. Lola should be an easy enough challenge for that, shouldn’t she?

He shuts the pizza box, sliding it into the fridge before placing the ice cream back in the freezer. That’s all he has to do, right? Fuck, he hasn’t babysat since he was, like, sixteen. Hesitantly, he moves to brush the crumbs off the countertop before setting off down the hallway to find Linhardt and Lola. 

His heart feels rather warm when he hears something that distinctly sounds like Linhardt's nervous chuckle. When he finally pokes his head into the Master Bedroom, though, he sees why. 

Linhardt and Lola sit at what Caspar assumes is Dorothea’s vanity, Lola with a tube of lipstick in her hand, and Linhardt with lipstick sloppily applied to his lips. They both look up when Caspar enters, and Linhardt’s cheeks go pink. 

“Having fun?” Caspar asks. 

“Mommy lets me play with her makeup,” Lola claims, going for Dorothea’s blush next. 

“Does she?” says Caspar. “Are you sure she lets you play with it when she’s not home?”

Lola doesn’t answer. 

“She kind of just dragged me in here,” Linhardt says, stifling a yawn. “I didn’t think anything of it.” 

Lola reaches forward with a brush, dusting Linhardt’s cheeks with a bright red rouge. Linhardt looks more than a little silly, Caspar notes, but at least he’s not running away screaming. 

“Doesn’t he look pretty?” Lola says. 

“Yeah, but Lin always looks pretty.” Caspar steps into the room, pressing a kiss to the top of Linhardt’s head. 

“Gross,” says Lola, and sits back in her seat, watching the two of them with a smile on her face. 

“Do you want to make bracelets,” Linhardt bursts, face turning even redder underneath the blush. “Nine-year-olds are learning how to best emulate their fine motor skills and therefore enjoy activities such as making bead bracelets and boondoggles.” 

“What?” Lola and Caspar say in unison. 

“Bracelets,” Linhardt repeats. “We brought beads. And string. For bracelets.” 

A beat. 

“Okay!” Lola says, and jumps up off of the stool, rushing out of the room. 

Linhardt groans, putting his head in his hands. 

“Hey, you’re doing great,” Caspar says, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “Love ya, Linny.” 

“I’ll meet you out there in a second,” Linhardt says. “I need to wash off my face.” 

“What?” Caspar says teasingly, even as he backs towards the door. “I think you look amazing. My dear Clownhardt.” 

Linhardt sticks his tongue out at him, but he’s laughing when Caspar closes the door behind him. 

Huh. Maybe  _ he _ needs to work on his fine motor skills, Caspar thinks as he struggles to string his bracelet. He's never been the most coordinated of people; even back when he played football he was better known for brute strength over anything else. 

Lola, on the other hand, is already on her second bracelet by the time he's managed to string five beads. 

Soon enough, Linhardt emerges from the bedroom, face scrubbed pink and his hair pulled back into a ponytail. 

“Uncle Caspar’s bad at this,” Lola says matter of factly. 

“Is he, now?” Linhardt says. 

“I am,” Caspar confirms, squinting as he tries to slip a blue bead on his string with shaky hands. 

Linhardt knots his string, picking three beads up and slipping them on one after the other. 

Caspar sets down his string in frustration. “How do you do that so easily?” 

“Here,” Linhardt says, chuckling as he reaches over. “Just set it on the table and slide the bead across it. See? It’s easy.” 

Caspar tries it, breathing out a sigh of relief when he’s finally able to string the bead without issue. “Ugh. Thanks, Linny. That was shitty.” 

“That was shitty!” Lola pipes up. 

Linhardt blinks, then rests his face in his hands as Caspar reaches out. “No, don’t say that!” 

“I’m telling Mommy that you guys taught me shitty,” Lola says with a mischievous smile. 

“I’m gonna get fired,” Linhardt mutters through his hands. 

“What? You’re not gonna get fired,” Caspar says quickly, then turns back to Lola. “Just… don’t repeat that, okay? It’s not a nice word. Or you can tell your moms that you know it but just… don’t say we taught it to you?” 

Lola considers this. “Do I get more ice cream, then?” 

“Yeah, sure, fine, whatever,” Caspar says, waving his hands dramatically. 

“And I can stay up until ten?” 

“What? No.” Caspar shakes a finger at her. “Don’t push it.” 

Lola frowns, but concedes. “Fine,” she says. “I’m gonna finish my bracelet first.” 

“Great,” Caspar says. “Bracelet, then ice cream, then bed.” 

Lola, content, goes back to her bracelet, sitting in her hand as a nonsensical pattern of red and green and blue. 

Linhardt wipes his eyes with his hands, turning to Caspar.  _ Thank you,  _ he mouths. 

Caspar shrugs and smiles. Easy. 

Of course, after Lola finishes her bracelet, she wants to make one for both Linhardt and Caspar. Of course, after ice cream, Lola wants candy, too. Of course, she can’t just stand for one bedtime story, and it’s nearly eight-thirty by the time Caspar rejoins Linhardt on the couch, Lola finally asleep. 

Caspar groans, collapsing down and half-onto Linhardt, draped across his lap dramatically. “If we ever have kids, they can just eat ice cream whenever. Too hard to discipline.” 

Linhardt doesn’t answer. 

Caspar cracks one eye open. “You okay there, Lin?” 

Linhardt’s frowning, staring down at the floor as though he isn’t really seeing it. Caspar reaches up, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“Hey,” Caspar says. “You good?” 

Linhardt blinks. He shakes his head once, twice, then squeezes his eyes closed. 

When he opens them again, he’s looking at Caspar. Caspar grins. “You kinda left for a second there,” he says. “I got Lola down. Dory and Edelgard should be home soon. You okay?” 

Linhardt smiles. It’s soft and slow, like a cat lounging out in the sun. Caspar loves that smile. “I’m… fine.” Linhardt runs a hand through his hair, stopped by the ponytail. 

“Yeah?” Caspar says. “I’m doing pretty good, too. Usually, I’m so stir crazy this time of night. I guess babysitting wears us both out, huh?” 

He’s still spread out across Linhardt’s lap, and he sighs happily when one of Linhardt’s hands goes to his hair, scratching against his scalp with gentle fingers. He needs a haircut soon. Wait, fuck, he’s been meaning to get clippers. That way Lin can just do it at home. So much easier and way less expensive than going to SportsClips-

“Caspar,” Linhardt says, voice contemplative. It’s a tone Caspar knows well. It could mean anything from trying a different flavor of ice cream to moving across the country so Linhardt can work for their old college friend Edelgard. 

“Yeah, Linny?” 

“That… wasn’t terrible,” Linhardt says. He sounds surprised. 

“You sound surprised,” Caspar says, pushing himself into a sitting position. Is this going to be a serious talk? It sounds like it’s going to be a serious talk. He should be sitting up for a talk that’s serious, right? He tries to put on his most serious face. 

“I don’t know,” Linhardt says and scrunches his nose in the adorable way that he does when he’s being adorable. Wow, Caspar’s in love.

“Okay,” Caspar says slowly. “Do you want to, uh, talk about it? Or something?” They haven’t really had to have ‘talks’ often throughout their relationship, at least none on their friend’s couch. 

“I don’t know,” Linhardt repeats, and slumps against the couch, sighing. “It’s weird.”

“I noticed you weren’t super terrified of Lola after a while,” Caspar points out helpfully.

“I wasn’t,” Linhardt agrees. “That was the weird part.” 

“You’re thinking really hard,” Caspar says helpfully. “I can’t follow your thoughts on the best of days.” 

Linhardt snorts. “You’re better at that than you think.” 

Caspar preens, puffing out his chest a bit. “Yeah?” 

Linhardt rolls his eyes, albeit lovingly. “Yes, you great goose.” 

Caspar leans his head on his shoulder, draping one arm across his waist. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m your husband so I’m, you know, in it for the long haul or whatever.”

“I know.” Linhardt looks down at his hands. “I guess I’ve just never actually babysat before. I kind of liked it.” 

“Never?” Caspar asks. “Not even in high school? I know when I was saving for top surgery I babysat, like, every weekend.” 

“I worked at Pizza Hut instead,” Linhardt mumbles. “And I know that, Caspar. We knew each other in high school.” 

“Oh, yeah!” Caspar says. “Huh.” 

“I guess it just wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be,” Linhardt says. “And I know that  _ you  _ want kids-” 

“Only if you do!” Caspar cuts in. “It’s not a dealbreaker for me!” 

Linhardt laughs, placing a hand on the side of Caspar’s head. It’s a bit of an awkward angle, but Caspar is soothed nonetheless. “I know, Caspar. I know.” He sighs. “I guess part of me is just thinking that, maybe, there’s… I don’t know, not a hole missing in our lives, because we can be a family all on our own, but maybe kids wouldn’t be… too bad?”

Caspar jerks his head up from Linhardt’s shoulder, staring him down. “What?” 

“I know,” Linhardt says, wincing just a bit. “I’ve never expressed interest before. But back there, when Lola was doing my makeup, I don’t know. I guess I felt a really strong burst of love that has nowhere to go.” 

Caspar frowns. “I don’t know if I understand that.” 

“You don’t have to,” Linhardt says. “And I don’t want to rush into anything, but maybe some more research is required. We could offer to babysit a few more times. Maybe talk to a therapist about it. We shouldn’t make a big decision like that without research, you know.” 

“I know,” Caspar says, but he can feel his cheeks starting to hurt with how widely he’s smiling. “This is just… wow. Okay, yeah. We can babysit and we can go to therapy and look into adoption and maybe get a puppy, too, if we wanted to see if we could even handle that, and-” 

“Okay, okay,” Linhardt laughs again, cutting Caspar off kindly. “I get it. Let’s just… start slow though, okay?” 

Caspar’s grin melts into something smaller, something even more sincere. “Yeah. Okay.” 

And when Linhardt ducks his head down, planting a soft kiss on Caspar’s lips, it feels perfect. 

It feels like home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on Twitter @bizzybee429!


End file.
